b>Knight Errant is the second of my Legends of Osaire series, but it was the first one I thought out in any detail. I loved these characters, especially Lasra. Most have asked me, those who helped me write this story, why I didn’t write Mazom and Lasra’s terrible tale.

I have a hard time writing an unhappy end, which is all Mazom and Lasra came to for a long time. I try to write about hope and redemption and gooey sweet romance because I feel there’s not enough of it in the world. Besides, I feel that Tae’liamath and Einith added a subtle contrast of the higher stations in life, compared to the plebeians.

Einith, though, he’s as immovable as the rocks his species was carved from, I swear it. It was so hard to get him to make a move in this story, but I’m pleased with the results.

There are more tangentially connected stories in this world, the next one about the ill-fated Alegan. Grief does funny things to people, especially those with the power to remake their world. This mage is no exception. I hope you enjoy Knight Errant as much as I do, and I look forward to giving you more tales of this little world.

Exclusive Excerpt:

“Bed, if it’s all the same.” Tae stood up also and started unstrapping their bedroll from the top of Einith’s pack. “I’m too disheartened to eat. Food will only upset my stomach.”

Nothing affected Einith’s own appetite, if he was honest, but it was good to know about his Heartstone. He pulled out a pot and some oats, which they were running very low on, and started scouring the dell for little rocks to ring a cook fire.

Tae took the bedding close to the tree, Einith noticed, and bent to his work when his lover huffed. He loved that sound. It was a pout set to music, he swore it, and turned to grin at what had bothered Tae.

A loose string had snagged on a piece of tree bark. Tae glowered at it and tried to pull it away without having to go and untangle the thread. Einith started back to help.

Tae gave a vicious tug and a whole section of the tree came off with a thunk.

Tae’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Lasra!”

Einith sprinted to the tree and skidded to a halt next to his elf, baffled.

A ghost was housed in the tree. To Einith it looked like a ghost, the way his younger sister used to tell the stories. The being was milky and pale, behind a sheet of what seemed like a novice’s first attempt at glass-making. Unless he was mistaken, it was a dwarf.

Swarthy skin and dark hair, maybe black or brown, it was hard to tell in the light with such a bad glaze over it. The being had to be Mazom though, because what were the chances of any other dwarf secreted away in these mountains in such a manner?

Lasra collided with him from the side and tumbled them all to the ground in a heap. With a groan, Einith heaved Lasra off of him and Tae, only to have Lasra practically crawl into his lap to get to Tae. “Have you found him?”

Tae pointed a shaky finger at the tree. The old mage didn’t worry about standing, clawing his way to the oak on his hands and knees. A curious expression stole over his wrinkled face and his blue eyes turned fever bright as he stared at the tree hollow. “Oh, beloved.”

The pain that bled from Lasra’s voice alone brought tears to his own eyes. He pulled himself together, though. Now was not the time for compassion. They had to get Mazom out of that blasted tree without killing him.

Tae was on the same track. “How do we get him out?” he whispered to Einith. “This was not something I learned to do.”

Einith gaped at him like a trout, at a loss. “We can’t cut it down or burn it. Maybe we have to extract him with magic, the same way he was interred.”

“You’re serious?” Tae hissed. “Lasra doesn’t have the power left and will not for days, and I don’t have the training for that either.”